403 Forbidden

Route 537 along the border of Monmouth and Ocean counties rolls through the leafy forests and horse farms before zipping past the C&H Tire and Service Center. The squat, cinder-block building is surrounded by rusted cars, stacks of tires and lots of crab grass.

It’s an easy enough place to miss, but if you stop by on the right day, one of the best high school basketball players in the country will pump your gas.

Desmond Hubert, a 6-foot-10 center at nearby New Egypt High School, is why assistant coaches from North Carolina and Maryland have been topping off their tanks in Cream Ridge lately. But before Desmond, 18, can even think about leading the pampered life of major basketball star, there are chores to be finished.

Mr. Blue Chip Recruit changes oil filters. He sweeps the floor. And, yes, he pumps gas in the rain and freezing weather. When he’s home, Hubert also vacuums, takes out the trash and mows the lawn.

Henry Jackson, the man who made a promise to his dying sister, wouldn’t have it any other way.

Carved from the mold of a drill sergeant, with calloused hands and a steely stare harder than the engine blocks he tears apart, Jackson, now 51, assumed custody of Desmond in 2007, just as life was starting to pile on. His business was feeling the effects of the economic downturn, his marriage had fallen apart a year earlier and now he had lost his sister, Rose, to complications from breast cancer.

What in the world was he going to do with Desmond — an emotionally bruised teenager who was new in town and unaware of what life with a disciplinarian could be like?

Desmond and his mother, Rose Hubert, were all each other had back in Winter Park, Fla., even after she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1997. The little boy grew up quickly, taking care of his mom, cooking dinner, cleaning the house and getting ready for school on his own each morning. (Desmond’s biological father still lives in New Jersey but the two have only occasional contact.)

When the cancer didn’t rob Rose of her energy, Desmond tagged along everywhere she went and he remembers how she always had time for other people, counseling friends over the phone and in their living room.

"It was pretty tough," Desmond says. "I didn’t really understand why it was happening. Like, I knew what was going on, but I didn’t understand why."

Henry was one of Rose’s three brothers and three sisters, and pretty much the glue that held everyone together as they scattered from their family home in New Jersey. It was during a visit in 2002, when the cancer was in remission, that Rose asked her brother to look after Desmond if anything happened to her.

"She said it and there was no need to talk about it anymore," Jackson says. "It was done."

About four years later, with the cancer spreading, Jackson and two friends drove to Florida, packed up Rose and Desmond, and moved them to Cream Ridge. He had bought a house for his sister and nephew.

Once in Cream Ridge, Rose developed lesions on her brain, her full head of curly hair fell out and she lost about 60 pounds. She died almost a year after the move.

At the funeral, Jackson was so overcome by emotion, he sat alone, weeping.

Then he felt an arm drape around his shoulders.

"He put his arm around me and said it would be OK," Jackson says. "That meant a lot."

It was Desmond.

***

Once Jackson took in Desmond, there was an adjustment period for both. The uncle wasn’t shy about making lists of chores for his nephew or setting a strict curfew. And if Desmond wanted to visit a friend, Jackson called first to check out the parents.

"It was just totally different," Desmond says. "Being used to being with my mom so much, you could say she somewhat babied me."

At the same time, Jackson was dealing with the fallout from his divorce. He says it cost him about $150,000 between lawyer fees, alimony and assumed credit card debt. When work at the gas station slowed to a crawl, Jackson said, he had to take a second mortgage on the house he shared with Desmond. Two other properties he owned were also mortgaged.

"That was a very tough period," says Matt Picaro, a longtime friend of Jackson’s. "It’s been a bumpy bunch of years for Henry."

The stress affected Jackson’s mood and made him prone to shout at home, friends say. Eventually, those same friends say, Desmond’s presence changed Jackson. He now had someone who depended on him. He needed to overcome adversity. He needed to work harder.

"Through Henry’s troubles, I know he wanted to have a family," Picaro says. "Desmond kind of filled part of that and really gave him a reason for continuing to work hard and keep his head above water. They probably had a very stabilizing affect on each other."

***

Desmond and Jackson bonded, for the most part, through basketball. Henry was a forward in the 1970s for Allentown (N.J.) High and he played in recreation leagues throughout the year so he wasn’t shy about giving Desmond advice.

You need to play harder. You need to be more vocal. You need to get stronger.

Jackson even coached the New Egypt kids in fall and summer leagues and has never missed one of Desmond’s games at New Egypt.

Ironically, Desmond’s development presented the most tenuous conflict between the two. Coaches and AAU teammates suggested Desmond transfer from New Egypt, a Group 1 school with 560 students, to one of New Jersey’s private school powerhouses to play against better competition. The idea intrigued Desmond, who wanted to keep pace with the country’s elite talent.

Jackson made it clear Desmond was better off at New Egypt.

"His mother asked me to raise him and I didn’t think there was anyone better than me to teach him how to be a man," Jackson says. "I wasn’t going to send him off to some private school with someone I didn’t know to try and teach him. We had a few heated conversations and I just flat out told him, ‘I don’t care what other people say. You’re going here. You started here.’"

John O'Boyle/The Star-LedgerDesmond Hubert laughs with his New Egypt High School boys' basketball teammates. The 6-foot-10 center average 16.2 points, 10.8 rebounds and 9.1 blocks per game last season.

Desmond has flourished at New Egypt, entering this season as the No. 15 rated center in the country by Rivals.com. Like players at most public schools across the state, he will open the season tomorrow night.

"He’s the best big man prospect in the state by a lot," says Steve Keller, a recruiting analyst from the National Recruiting Report in Neptune. "He’s very fast, his feet are quick and he’s athletic."

"We always told him, as far as recruiting, it’s their job to find you," says Carroll, the athletic director. "And they found him."

***

In the back of the service center last Thursday, Jackson was taking apart a rusted power steering pump. A thin red stir straw rested between his teeth, and black wire glasses sat on the end of his nose. The inside of the garage was a battleground of belts, hoses, mufflers, tires, engines and tools. The sharp, metallic scent of gas and oil filled the air.

After munching on a deli sandwich for lunch, Jackson hopped in his Chevy Silverado and zipped over to New Egypt, where an assistant coach from Maryland sat in the corner of the gymnasium to watch basketball practice.

Those at New Egypt attribute Desmond’s development to Jackson, who works 12 hours each day. He says he doesn’t smoke or drink or party. His friends say he harps about loyalty, the values of hard work and keeping your word.

"It’s the father figure he needed," New Egypt coach Jay Corby said. "He needed to be yelled at. He needed to be kicked in the butt and told he wasn’t so great. His uncle kept him on that straight line."

Adds Carroll, "The relationship has grown into a father-son relationship."

Desmond acknowledged as much.

"It’s a lot more comfortable. We’re a lot more friendly," he says. "Before I felt like he was just trying to be tough on me. Now it’s much better."

As practice continued last Thursday, Jackson watched from the sidelines, his hands dug into his pants pockets, his head swiveling to follow Desmond across the court.

There are several moments when he looks at Desmond and is overwhelmed with pride. His grades are strong enough to garner consideration from Ivy League schools. He is starting to be a leader on the court and there are no problems at home or in school.

"I’m so proud of him for where he is," Jackson says. "He could have had a hundred excuses for being different. He could have used losing his mom as an excuse to go to drinking or drugs or anything. But he’s done none of that. I think probably more than he would say — or I would say — that he takes more of my personality and is more like me than he might want to admit.